


The Chosen One, 2

by kizkhalifa



Series: Training For The Ballet, Potter? [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Gen, M/M, One-Shot, Pre-Relationship, the chosen one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 16:15:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16222706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kizkhalifa/pseuds/kizkhalifa
Summary: A continuation of 'The Chosen One'.





	The Chosen One, 2

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: The boys are outcha being all cute and shit. I couldn't help it, this story won't leave my mind. [No beta!~]
> 
> Warnings: N/a.
> 
> Draco Malfoy/Harry James Potter.

" **Have somewhere else to be, Malfoy?" Harry aske** d when Draco looked at his wristwatch  _again._

"It's been thirty-seven minutes, Potter," Draco answered his know-it-all smirk with a sneer, "I don't like waiting."

"That doesn't surprise me."

Draco rolled his eyes, "can we just go somewhere else?" He sighed, spotting the hostess approaching as he asked, but he knew it wasn't for them. It was for one of the two couples in front of them.

"We've waited this long without you talking to me don't think we can go much longer before you break?"

"We can pick up pizza and beers if you'd like?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow, "I didn't realize you were a pizza and beer guy," he got up from his seat and smiled, "lead the way."

Draco reached out, out of instinct to adjust Harry's collar. The moment his fingers brushed against Harry's collarbone he froze, "it was messed up," was all Draco barked before turning and leading the way. Harry smirked setting off behind the blonde.

**After**   **deciding**   **on which p** izza and beer to get Harry apparated them to his flat without even asking because he had figured it'd have been another argument of the sorts.

Draco kept his words to himself, for once. He was curious just where and how  _The_   _Savior_  lived.

Harry, juggling the pizza box and beer, opened the door before ushering Draco inside his flat, "I don't have any rules but the closet is to the left if you'd like to take your jacket off."

"Thank you," Draco answered, following him with his eyes as he slipped off his jacket and hung it up in the closet, before joining Potter.

He took his time, eyes sweeping the area around him. His whole house was clean - not spotless, but clean. Lived in. It was warm, comfortable and poorly decorated. Draco turned up his nose at the mismatched furniture and the sports memorabilia that lined the walls of the den.

He had a feeling that some of it was from Muggle sports since he didn't know their names.

"Malfoy?!"

"Right here," Draco walked into the open doorway.

"Oh, sorry," Harry laughed, "please join me," he added sweeping his hand out towards the table.

"I was merely admiring your sports... fascination?"

"Traveling I was able to really delve into sports, American sports were even more fascinating." He said while sliding into a chair at his table, "you haven't seen hype for a sport until you've lived through football - like, rugby - with people in America."

Draco eyed him as talked, opening his beer and taking a long drink, "how was it living elsewhere?"

"Freeing," Harry sighed happily and Draco realized at some point of them coming to Potter's flat that the mask The Chosen One usually wore seemed to leave. He wasn't making his jokes, he wasn't overly confident, he was just...  _Potter_ , or so Draco would assume that was who he was acting like. He was sitting relaxed in his dining chair, beer in hand and two pieces of pizza set in front of him on his plate as he talked about what it was like living in America.

Draco could give a fuck what America was like, but it was nice to see Potter like this - real and raw.

"... they're even more magically backward than we are," he commented before grinning, "put that in your article."

"My article?" Draco questioned with a chuckle, "I'm not writing an article about you."

"So you say now, but let's say tonight doesn't end the way you want? I know, personally, you're rather vindictive."

"I've never written an article about you Potter, and I'm not about to start now," Draco answered dryly and reached into the box grabbing a slice for himself.

"I'm dying to see you eat that Malfoy," Potter drawled and Draco could have sworn he blushed, not Harry but himself. He knew his face was tinted with it. "Can't wait to find out what it's like to see Malfoy get savage."

_Well, so much for real and raw._ Instead of offering an answer Draco held the slice up to his lips and took a bite staring right at Harry Potter like the brat he is.

Harry grinned, taking his own bite. One much bigger and more fulfilling, before a swig of beer, followed. "So, you're working for  _The_   _Prophet_?"

"So I am."

"How is it?"

Draco lifted a shoulder, settling into the chair more comfortable, "it's a career, something that was hard to come by for people like me after The War."

"Pansy mentioned you didn't attend the last year over just took your exit exams?"

"Why on Earth is Pansy talking to you about me?"

"You're one of her best mates, Malfoy, you get brought up."

Draco quirked an eyebrow, "and do you talk about Weasley and Granger with her?"

"Not often," Harry chuckled sadly, " mm... Neville though."

Draco frowned to himself before taking another bite of pizza and letting the silence wash over them. He was half tempted to bring up Football, the American type, again but thankfully he didn't have to because Potter was saying something else.

"Teddy was very smitten having met a Slytherin."

"Was he?"

"A famous one too," Harry winked, and Draco knew the dread showed on his face. "I've told him about all the things you've done, before."

"Can't imagine it was too long of a story?" Draco muttered grabbing another beer and nearly finishing it one go. "I'm not Harry Potter, am I?"

"Well, no," Harry smirked, "but you're a close second to be requested when it comes to his stories."

"Mm, how'd that feel Potter?" Draco laughed shortly, "getting showed up by  _me_?"

"He likes hearing heroic tales of people close to his age..."

"He's still a child, he'll soon learn hero's only end up in novels and memories."

Harry put his pizza down looking right at Draco, "is that it? Is that why you hate me?"

"Hate you,  _Saint_  Potter?" He snorted, "why you saved us all." He knew the statement was harsher than he intended but then again, Potter wasn't what he had expected was he? Harry's face reflected his statement, his eyes twinging in anger and his mouth in a hard line. "I used to hate you because you were everything I wanted to be, Potter, now I could care less."

"That's why I have the luxury of your company at my flat with dinner."

"You asked for this and something tells me," Draco answered with a look of his own, "you're not much of one for fakery."

"You can leave anytime."

"You can ask me to leave anytime," Draco countered only faintly hearing a scrap of the chair.

"Maybe I don't want you to go," Harry's breath was hot against Draco's cheek, the blonde had to turn to look at him and when he did it was without permission their lips met.

Potter had his hands in Malfoy's hair and was giving it a small tug so they were properly connected, a connection that not only made Draco irritated but hot, he wanted more. He wanted to give in and he wanted Potter to make him.

Draco pushed back from the table as if he knew Harry wanted him to and the man slid right onto his lap. His own hands rubbing down Harry's shoulders to his elbows.

"You taste like beer," Harry whispered when he pulled back and Draco grimaced. It was better when they were kissing because then he didn't have to think about it.

It being Harry-Bloody-Potter pressed against him.

"Shut up," he growled and leaned back in the chair. Harry only followed pressing his lips against Draco's neck and sucking at the skin lightly.

Harry rocked forward while brushing his blonde hair back, giving his skin a proper kiss.

Draco wanted to leave, he wanted to get up and walk away and never look back but... it felt so right. So real. Harry Potter on his lap, tasting him and touching him. Having all of Draco like no one ever had.

His blood was boiling with it, every ounce of him on fire for Potter's touch. That was until he felt those fingers undoing his button up and then it all came rushing back to him.

_Potter._

"No!" He yelled, grabbing Harry's wrist and pushing him back, "no."

"No?"

"No." Draco shook his head and gave him another push trying to get him off of his legs, "we can't do this, no."

"Do what? Dinner? I learned."

"This," Draco knew he looked vulnerable, he knew he sounded vulnerable and he knew Potter was eating it up. He knew by the way Harry was looking at him, the way Harry was reaching for him. He wanted Draco just like this. Soft and empty and open. "I should go," Malfoy said curtly, "get off of me."

Harry stared dumbfounded and unmoving, even when Draco reached for his wand. "Get. Off."

"Malfoy..."

"I'm not asking again, Potter," Draco growled, gripping his wand tightly. Harry moved slowly raising off of him and Draco scooter away from the table quickly on his own feet.

"What happened?"

"I told you this wouldn't work," Draco muttered and turned to leave, heading for the hall closet with Potter close behind.

"Malfoy—."

"No," Draco snapped, "this isn't a thing, you don't get to say my name like you'll miss me when I leave."

"I... I?" Harry was lost, his hands outstretched in front of him, asking for forgiveness or a chance Draco wasn't sure which. Part of him wondered but a bigger part had satisfaction in not giving stupid Potter what he wanted. He couldn't. "You don't have to leave, I'm sorry. I'll keep my hands to myself."

"You'll keep your hands to yourself when I leave too." Draco jerked his coat from the closet and pulled it on, "thank you for dinner." Malfoy added, he couldn't just storm off as much as he'd like. Politeness was beaten into him as a child.

Potter caught the shift and gave a nod, "of course," he answered, "thank you for joining me." Draco hovered at the door, his back to Potter, and part of Harry was hoping Draco would turn around and come back to him but he knew he wouldn't. Not Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy opened the door and stepped out on the front porch apparating before either could say another word.

* * *

" **I**   **mean what the hell?" Pan** sy snorted, her arms crossed against her chest as she stared at Draco.

"What was I going to do," Draco rolled his eyes, "' _oh sorry Potter, I'm covered in scars from when you were less than golden?'_ " He asked dryly, "I told him it wouldn't work from the beginning."

"Not with that attitude," she quirked an eyebrow, "I'm sure he would have been fine with the... marks," she made a gesture of Draco's body with a hand.

"No, you don't know him like that."

"Oh yeah, and with one kiss you suddenly know Harry Potter, huh?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, "I know his type, Parkinson, I know him."

She sighed, "well as a friend to both of you, I'm glad you didn't anyway."

"Why's that?"

"I know  _your_  type, Malfoy," she answered dryly, "and I'm glad nothing will come of it because you'd end up hurt."

"Playboy Potter living up to his name?" He asked dryly, groaning when she laughed. "You never told me you were such good friends with him."

"I wouldn't say good friends, but it has developed over the years sure." Pansy brushed a hand down her dress, before sitting herself in a chair comfortably. "Speaking of him, he needs to redecorate."

"I noticed," Draco gave an approving eye of his own living room, "he lives like a lower class Muggle." He spat, "I mean we can do magic for Merlin's sake. It's not that difficult to change furniture."

"I don't imagine he cares all too much."

"No, he likes the charm of the pieces no matter how unfit they are."

"Did he tell you that?"

Draco lifted a shoulder whilst carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, putting them on the coffee table. "I know his type."

Pansy snorted, reaching forward to accept the cuppa, hearing Draco's promised,  _well sugared_ , before she asked her next question, "what is his type then?"

"You're his bloody friend, Pansy, you don't need me to dissect the man."

"Fine," she huffed playfully and took a drink. "Are you going to Theodore's dinner tomorrow?"

"No."

"I want to," she continued, "I think it'd be nice... we haven't seen very many of our people lately."

"There is a reason for that," Malfoy answered, recalling the last dinner party he had attended with Pansy. It had ended in a rather nasty argument between himself and Nott, he hadn't even been invited to this one but he wasn't about to tell Pansy that.

"If you'd learn to shut your mouth, Draco, things wouldn't have escalated so much."

He gave her a look mocking offense, "oh I'm the problem?" She merely hummed before taking a bite out of her biscuit and settling into her seat. Draco had his mug halfway to his mouth when a knock on the door gathered his attention.

"Expecting someone?" She asked, turning in her seat just slightly to look towards the door Draco was on his feet headed towards.

"No." He answered, and gave her a look, "but we all know how people can show up unexpectedly, hm?" He asked pulling the door open and only catching the beginning of her insult.

"Malfoy," Harry's voice met his ears and Draco passed out.


End file.
